“Oh, god,” she moaned, long moments later, burying her face against his neck. “Oh god, I can’t believe I did that.”

He slid one hand from beneath her bottom and cradled her head, holding her against him as her body continued to quiver in twitchy little spasms. “Samara,” he whispered. “Christ, Samara.” He couldn’t believe it either.

They stayed like that for long, throbbing, panting moments. He wanted to finish, wanted to take her upstairs and roll into her bed with her, wanted to do everything to her and make her come again every way he knew how. He was thick and hot inside his pants, so hard he hurt, and if he moved, if he even breathed, he was done.

The chirruping noise of a cricket nearby registered faintly in his fuzzy brain. A light went out in a window above them, which he knew was the hall. Dayna was going to bed. Luckily her room was at the front of the house. He moved back from Samara, and she smoothed her dress down over hips and thighs. Still leaning against the wall, her eyes closed, she lifted her hands, covered her face and rolled her body over the wall so that her forehead pressed to the stucco. Her slender ribcage rose and fell with the quick rhythm of her breathing. He set his hands on her hips, moved up behind her again.

“Don’t,” she said in a choked voice.

He bit his top lip. Was she embarrassed by what had just happened? Should he apologize? He closed his eyes, afraid to say the wrong thing. Knowing Samara, anything he said at this point was bound to be the wrong thing.

“I have to go in,” she choked out. She slipped beneath his arms, dashed across the patio, yanked open the door and disappeared into the house.

After successfully avoiding Travis most of the weekend, Samara arrived early Monday morning at the Cedar Mill Coffee Company offices, dressed in a suit and heels and ready to kick some butt. She came to a halt in the area outside her father’s office where Travis leaned against Paulette’s desk. Damn. He’d beat her there.

“Good morning,” he said, straightening.

He looked, as usual, delicious in his dark dress pants and crisp gray shirt. Heat flashed beneath her skin as she remembered the night of the funeral and what he’d done to her out on the patio. Godfrey, she’d thought about it all weekend as she’d sneaked around the house making sure she didn’t run into him. She’d wavered between hot embarrassment and melting arousal ever since.

She ignored him and smiled at Paulette. “Good morning.”

Paulette’s gaze flicked back and forth between them.

“Let’s go into my office,” Travis suggested.

“Your office?” She glared at him. It wasn’t his office. It was her father’s. Now it would be hers. But she turned on one spiky heel and marched in there. He followed and shut the door behind them.

“This isn’t your office,” she began heatedly. “My father has been gone just over a week. I think you could at least show some respect by finding another office...”

“Samara, I have another office. I use it when I’m in town. That’s the office I was talking about.” His voice was silky smooth. “You’re the one who came in here.”

She remained standing, arms crossed, foot tapping on the thick carpet, lips pressed together.”Oh.”

“Samara, have a seat. We have to talk.”

“You’re not getting rid of me,” she told him, advancing across the room to the chair behind the desk.

A frown creased his brow. “I’m not trying to get rid of you. But we have to talk about the management structure of the company. It’s not just up to us. You have to be realistic here. You have to think of the big picture—what’s best for the company.”

“I can do that.” She blinked at him. “My father built this company, and I intend to run it the way he would have wanted.”

Travis’s lips compressed, and he sighed again. “That’s great. But he didn’t build this company alone. He and I did it together, and you have to recognize that.”

“I do.” Anxiety gnawed at her stomach. She was intelligent, educated and knowledgeable about the coffee business. She’d grown up talking about the coffee business and had worked hard since college to learn more. But deep down inside, a tiny niggling doubt squirmed around inside her. “So what do we have to do? Let’s start planning. We should put together a proposal and take it to the board and the shareholders. Right?”

He stared at her. A muscle ticked in his jaw, his mouth a straight line of grimness. “I suppose that would be a start. We’ll need to include others—Simon, Alex, Hank, Daniel.”

Hell. The more people involved in the decision, the less control she felt she had, although, she apparently had no control over this. Travis would make the decision. She felt helpless, like she was slamming herself up against the brick wall of his assured confidence and implacable will.

If it came down to a vote—and it appeared likely it would—she needed her mother on her side. She had no doubt Travis would get the other shareholders onside with his taking over, but her mother....

Who was she kidding? She dropped her eyes and swiveled in the chair, clutching the armrests. She and her mother were barely on speaking terms; whereas, her mother and Travis were...well, she honestly didn’t know the current status of their relationship, but at the very least they were...friends. She sucked her top lip in between her teeth as she considered this problem. And what to do about it.

She swiveled back to face Travis. “Well, let’s get started then. I’ll ask Paulette to set up a meeting for all of us, and we can talk about how to move forward.”

“All right.” His agreement made her blink. “In the meantime, though, there are some issues that I need to deal with. We do have to continue with business as usual, so as not to alarm our stakeholders and partners.”

“Of course. What can I do?”

His face tightened even more, if that was possible. “Perhaps you could work on the newsletter—the message to staff about your father’s passing and how we’re working on a succession plan. Reassure everyone. I’m sure you can handle that.”

She blew out a burst of air from between pursed lips. “Yeah, I think I can handle that.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll do it, but I’m telling you, Travis, you can’t shut me out. I intend to do whatever I have to make sure my father’s company survives. Not just survives—thrives. I have ideas, too, for growing this business. The first thing I plan to work on is whatever project he had going on in Matagalpa.” Samara frowned. “What was he doing in Matagalpa, anyway? We haven’t done any business there for years.”

“I don’t know exactly what Parker was doing there. Now that he’s gone, it doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

Travis frowned. “I said— I don’t even know exactly what he was doing there.”

“Well, we’ll have to find out. Dad would have wanted someone to finish it.”

Travis gave her a look from narrowed eyes beneath lowered brows, and she frowned. “What? Just because I work in a regional office doesn’t mean I don’t know anything. I know a lot about the supply end of the business from school and from when we were in Matagalpa and Brazil.”

“I don’t think we should be concerned about whatever Parker was doing there.”

Samara tipped her head. “How can we not be?” She still didn’t get why Travis was brushing it off.

“Don’t worry about it, Samara. It’ll be my problem to deal with.”

Her body tightened, her fingers gripping the armrests of her chair. His patronizing attitude sparked a flash of anger and resentment in her. “It’s not just your problem. I own half this company, remember? It’s my problem too, and I’m going to find out more about it.”

“No.”

She stared at him. “What do you mean no?”

“I told you before, Samara, that project is done. We’re not going to move forward with it.”

“You don’t even know what it was all about.”